


Naomi Knows

by genagirl



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:22:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genagirl/pseuds/genagirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blair is injured, Naomi learns more about her son and his partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naomi Knows

This is my first post on the list and only second  
time posting on the internet.

DISCLAIMER: Jim and Blair are owned by Pet Fly Prod. not me (mores the pity). No copyright infringment intended and no actors were hurt in the writing of this story. 

rated: G. J/B 

***** 

Naomi Knows

by

Gena

How dare he! 

How dare he endanger Blair like that! Naomi Sandburg marched along the corridor like Sherman looking for kindling. Her small fist hammered the door just below 307 and for an instant she hoped the numbers would crash to the floor and erase all sign of Detective James Ellison. If that man thought he was getting away with it, he had another thing coming. She had never wanted Blair to hang around with that....that cop in the first place. Blair was special. He had an ancient and wise soul, but what did he do with it? He tagged along with a police officer like some rookie in training. Well, this was going to stop and it was going to stop now. 

She heard hesitant footsteps on the other side of the door. Ellison had a right to be hesitant. He must have known she'd get word of the fiasco which had hurt Blair. '......a police observer also received injuries' the news report had said. She hadn't heard all of the details but knew that any police observer in danger was more than likely her son. 

Jim Ellison had known it was her. There was no mistaking the muttered threats he'd heard as she'd exited the elevator. So that was where Blair got the habit of talking to himself. Jim waited until she knocked before opening the door for Naomi. "Naomi," he greeted gently, "come on in." He stood back and motioned her inside, not that the action was needed, she had started forward as soon as the door opened. Now, she brushed him aside and stood glaring when he turned around. 

"I warned you last time," Naomi began, "I said Blair wasn't cut out for this but you swore you'd protect him." She moved closer and Jim saw tears shimmering in her eyes, her clenched jaw valiantly trying to hide her fear behind anger. "Where were you this time? Why do you let him get hurt like this?' 

"Naomi, look, it's not what you think...." 

"Not what I think!" Her fear had fallen to her anger and with eyes blazing she advanced. For one insane moment, Jim was struck by the eerie similarities between Naomi's determined expression and her son's and then his chest seemed to explode in a blinding flash of pain. He couldn't see, couldn't even breath as agony raced through his body, doubling him over with a cry of pain. 

"Jim?" Blair rushed from his room, hurrying passed his mother without stopping to explain. Ellison was down on one knee, head hanging as he gasped for air. "Jim! My god, what happened? What the hell did you do to him?" He demanded of Naomi, "Naomi, for christsake what happened?" 

"I-I don't know!" The color drained from her face leaving her white with worry, her voice shook as she said, "I pushed him. He doubled over!" 

"What!" Blair wrapped both arms around his larger friend, supporting Ellison's weight. "Jim? Jim, man, can you hear me? I'm going to help you to my room, okay?" He didn't get an answer but Ellison's hand locked onto his forearm with bone crushing force. "Slowly, very slowly. Concentrate, turn it down." He levered them both from the floor, moving as carefully as he could and still Jim gasped aloud with the pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Blair whispered over and over. Naomi stood back, watching her son guide his friend towards the room he used. She hurried forward, pushing clothing and books from the bed with both hands. She could hear her son and Jim coming closer, moving slow. 

She bit back a terrified cry as she caught sight of Jim's face. 

Tears of pain rolled silently down ashen cheeks and his jaw looked as if it had been carved of marble. He had Blair's arm in his grasp and she saw tiny streaks of blood trickling along his skin as Ellison's fingernails bit into his flesh but she realized the pain showing on her son's face didn't come from a physical source. Neither man made a sound as they moved together, ghost and shadow, though she got the impression Blair was uttering comfort as they made their way to the bed. Jim was the type of guy who never exhibited any weakness, never seemed to need anyone, and she wouldn't have ever thought he could lean on someone for help if she wasn't seeing it for herself. 

Blair helped Ellison sit, eased his legs onto the bed and knelt beside him. "Mom, get me a wet cloth," his voice had depth and authority and Naomi found herself moving before her mind fully understood his words. She'd never seen her son so tender, so gentle, at least not towards another man. He'd never really been comfortable with males, having only been exposed to them sporadically during his lifetime. But his relationship with Jim was different, deep and strong and with a tenderness she didn't understand. When she returned with the cloth Blair had Jim's shirt unbuttoned. Her heart dropped to her feet when she saw the white bandages circling his chest. A small, jagged patch of red stained his left side. 

"Ohmygod." Naomi came to an abrupt halt, her hand clamped hard over her mouth. "Blair, I-I didn't know," she stammered. Her son's voice, a low buzz she couldn't understand, rose a fraction and she hurried on, placing the cloth in his hand. Jim stirred and opened his eyes when his partner applied the cloth to his sweating brow. "Jim, I am so sorry," she tried to say but her whisper was barely audible over the continuing murmur Blair uttered. Somehow the detective seemed to hear her, his pale face turned towards her for an instant and then Blair leaned close, his hair obscuring the detective from her view. 

Naomi retreated to the living room, pacing like a demon but still her thoughts out-distanced her. What had she done? How could she have been so thoughtless? But Blair was her only child, her sensitive and beloved son, she had the right to protect him, right? Then why did she feel like such a heel? Naomi sank to the couch, clutching a pillow against her chest, trying in vain to ease the dread gathered there. Jim had never really put Blair in danger on purpose. She knew her son better than she knew anyone, and Blair had a way of getting into trouble all by himself. It had just been easier to blame Jim. 

James Ellison. What did she know of him? He was honest and noble. He didn't say a lot but what he said, he meant. When Blair had first told her he'd moved in with a cop, Naomi had hit the roof. A cop! The pigs had given her more grief in her life than any other organization. She still had nightmares about Berkeley, and a scar on her thigh to remind her when the dreams didn't. But that was Blair, wasn't it? She'd taught him to be his own person, to do whatever he felt he should. So, his studies had lead him to Ellison and some kind of a bond had formed between them. 

It was hard to miss the thing which shimmered between the cop and her son. She remembered watching them, seeing Jim reach out to Blair, emotionally as well as physcially. He would put his hand on Blair's back to get him moving and instead of getting angry, her son would nod his head and go where told. And the first time Jim had playfully smack him on the forehead Naomi had expect fireworks instead of the resigned, and somehow pleased, look Blair had worn. She'd watched in amazement as her son, the boy who hated to be held even as an infant, stood there and let Jim wrap him in a hug and hold on until Blair had pulled reluctantly away. But it wasn't just the way they communicated physically. Jim shielded him, worried about him, protected him at all costs. He reached out to Blair with his concern and affection and her son responded in a way she had never seen before. 

"Mom?" Blair's voice broke into her thoughts and Naomi turned to find her son slumped at the table. "Mom, what are you doing here?" 

"Blair, oh, baby," she rushed to him, kneeling to put her arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt him," tears tracked her cheeks, dripping from her chin to spot his jeans. "Is Jim alright?" 

"Yeah," Blair ran a hand through his hair, weariness evident in his voice and manner, "yeah, popped a few stitches but he'll be okay. I gave him a couple of painkillers but....." he let his thoughts trail away, looking down at her with confusion. "Naomi, why did you do that?" 

"I thought you'd been hurt," Naomi confessed. "I - I heard on the news about a police observer being injured." 

"I twisted my ankle, mom," Blair explained. "Jim pushed me out of the way." His face collapsed into grief, eyes filling with tears and mouth compressed in a thin line, "Oh, god. I thought he was dead, Naomi. I thought he was dead." Naomi clutched his hands in hers aware only of the low tortured sobs which shook her son's body. She pulled him close, shielding him in her arms as she bit back her own tears. 

"Ssssh, baby," Naomi whispered. "It's okay now." 

"No," Blair shook his head, "It's not okay, mom. He pushed me out of the way, he threw himself over me and the blast hit him not me." 

"Honey, Jim is a police officer." Naomi drew back, searching the anguished face as she spoke, "he knows the risks. It's his job." 

"His job?" Blair tore himself from her grasp, he stood breathing noisily. "Jim's job? This isn't about his job, mom. This has never been about his job." Pacing back and forth between the table and the kitchen counter, Blair clutched his head in his hands. "Jim is so special to me. I can't even explain it to you because I don't have words for the feelings. And each time he does that," Blair stopped pacing, staring at the bedroom door, "each time he risks his life for me I want to run away." 

"But you don't." Naomi moved to his side, "Blair?" 

"No, I don't run away because I can't. I can't leave him. God, he needs me, he needs me so much it scares the shit outta me." Blair turned to look at her, eyes searching her face desperately, "Is this...is this why you never stayed with anyone?" 

"Oh, baby," she whispered. "Don't be afraid. I just don't want you hurt." 

"What about him? You know what he would do for me? He'd die to protect me." Blair tucked his hair back and took a deep breath, looking up at her with eyes full of wonder. 

"And....and you'd die to protect him," Naomi whispered. She held back her tears only because her son was in too much pain already. 

"Yes. Yes, I would." She nodded, accepting his words for the truth they were and knowing he accepted them as well. Mother and son embraced, comforting each other as best they could. 

Sunlight streamed through the balcony doors, warming the patch of floor where Naomi Sandburg sat meditating. She breathed deeply, centering herself as she had struggled to do for the last two hours. Blair had risen around eight, checking on Jim before heading out to the university. She'd promised to take care of the older man for him, happy to see her son smile. A faint sound made her open her eyes. Jim stood in the doorway to Blair's room, his face blank of all expression. 

"Jim," she greeted softly. "I am so sorry. I can't begin to say how badly I feel." 

"It's okay," Jim cut her off, moving slowly towards the coffee Blair had brewed before he left. "I understand, Naomi." He turned and stared at her. "As much as you hate me for putting him in danger," Jim paused, eyes closing momentarily as he found the right words, "as much as you hate me for that I hate myself twenty times over. Maybe you don't understand, maybe it's not something anyone can see, but I - I care for Blair. And I can't stand it because I need him with me all the time. I would step in front of a bullet or a truck or a goddamn nuclear devise if it will save his life. You have to believe that." 

Naomi moved closer, her hand coming up to touch his cheek. "I do. I know you'll protect him but.....I've seen the look in his eyes. He won't leave your side, you know that." She watched him, saw the pain her words sparked in his heart. 

"I know. We're a pair, aren't we?" Jim moved to the living room, sinking onto the couch with a sigh. "You know me, Naomi, I have to be in control." He waited for her to sit beside him, then picked up her hand and began to tell her of how he and Blair had met. "When I met Blair...well, I wasn't in control of anything. I had some serious problems....I still have some problems." Naomi watched his face as Jim spoke, she saw pain flicker in his eyes and sensed fear buried within the carefully constructed sentences. But all the pain and fear seemed to melt away like snow in a gentle rain when his words began painting a picture of her son. Naomi could picture Blair as Jim described him; intelligent, compassionate, resilient, and loyal, she had a feeling he was editing his memories, leaving something out, but the story he concocted brought a crest of pride crashing over her. "He's my anchor," Ellison whispered, "every second I've lived since I met him has been because of him. I'd be dead a hundred times over if not for Blair." His hand squeezed hers just a bit tighter then pulled their joined hands up to rest against his chest, just over his heart. 

"He's very important to us both, Jim," Naomi told him. For the first time in her life, Naomi regretted not being a crucial element in Blair's life. She'd taught him to be independent, to experience life for himself and find all the things he wanted wherever they were. But somehow her little boy had grown up while she wasn't looking and he had found someone who loved him as much as she did. The fact that the person was another man didn't phase her, but the fact that Jim didn't realize what was happening between them did. One part of her, the inbred instinct which came with giving birth, wanted to hate this intruder. She turned to him, searching his face for anything she could hate and found nothing. All she saw was a man who cared deeply for her son, a man who would never let anything happen to Blair as long as he lived. She smiled at Jim and leaned in to the circle of his arms. She hadn't moved a moment later when the phone rang. Jim nodded slowly and reached for it. "Ellison," he answered. "Blair!" The smile was in his voice. Naomi watched him through new eyes, seeing not the police officer sworn to protect and seve, but the man who loved her son. He had a gentleness when he spoke to her son, as if he were afraid of flight. And maybe he was, she realized. Blair didn't come with the best pedigree, stability just wasn't her strong suit. "Yeah," Jim was saying, "one o'clock. Bye." *Love you,* it wasn't said but it was heard by all three of them. 

Naomi set the last dish on the table, checking over everything to make sure it was perfect. Just as the timer rang she heard Blair's key in the lock and turned to greet him. "Sweetie!" He came into her arms and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. 

"Smells great, mom," his quick eyes moved around the loft, a frown taking the place of his smile. "Where's Jim? Is he okay?" Naomi patted his cheek, his first concern was always for his partner. 

"He's fine," she assured him, "He went down to the bakery for some fresh bread." 

"Mom! You shouldn't let him...." 

"Honey, you might be able to stop him from doing something but I can't." Naomi watched her son's face, saw the realization of the truth she spoke. Jim's arrival cut off any other conversation they might have had about Detective Ellison's personality. She saw her son tense, his hand quickly settling on Jim's arm when the older man winced as he set down the bag he carried. She could almost hear the conversation which passed between them; You sure you're alright? Don't fuss, Chief. I'm not fussing, I'm worrying. They left so much unsaid and yet they seemed to know each other by heart. Jim called her son his partner, said they were a team but this wasn't just team work. When she saw them together, the casual intimacy between them, the protective manner they had adopted towards each other, the genuine friendship which shimmered between them, Naomi found herself believing that these two would have been friends in any situation. They might never have gotten the chance if it hadn't been for Jim's "problem", whatever it was, and Blair's willingness to help this cop. Karma. It all boiled down to karma. 

"What are you smiling about, mom?" Blair asked. He carried the dishes in from the kitchen, setting them on the table and serving her first. 

"Nothing, honey," Naomi answered. Jim chuckled and Blair shook his head. It was interesting to watch them as the meal progressed. Though most of Blair's conversation was aimed at her - questions of what she'd been doing and what her plans were - he knew exactly what Jim was doing and when he needed something. She watched, fascinated, when Ellison drained the last of his water, before he could so much as stir, Blair was rising to retrieve the Evian bottle from the kitchen. When Jim finished his pasta, Blair automatically served him more. Her son was very good at making it seem as if Jim had initiated the action so that Ellison didn't realize what he was doing. Even later, when the lunch dishes had been cleared and they were quietly talking Blair managed , without making a fuss, to convince Jim he should get some rest . Naomi didn't notice the pallor of Ellison's skin or the lines around his eyes until her son had his partner on his feet and moving up the stairs. 

He'd touched Jim's arm and offered a slight smile, "Hey, big guy, lets go upstairs and Ill check those bandages," he'd told his partner. Together, Blair's arm around Ellison's waist, they'd gone up to Jim's room. She waited, hearing quiet voices and soft laughter and then Blair had come down stairs and sat beside her. 

"How's Jim?" Naomi asked. She saw the lines of stress etching furrows between Blair's dark eyebrows. He leaned against her, head pillowed on her breast like he'd done as a child. Naomi stroked his hair and listened to the rhythm of his breathing. When had he fallen in love with Jim? Had it been from the very beginning or only later as they forged this unbreakable bond between them? 

"He says he's fine," Blair said. He sounded tired and Naomi wondered how much sleep he'd snatched as he sat beside Jim's bed last night. "I worry so much, mom," his voice thick and unsteady, Blair continued, "what would I do if I ever got him killed?" 

"Blair!" Naomi pushed him up, staring into eyes aged by pain. "Jim cares about you....he might not say it, but he loves you." She felt the shiver these words produced and tightened her hold on his arms, "he told me how much he depends on you, how you've helped him deal with his problems." Naomi stared into his eyes, willing him to believe her, "he said he'd be dead if not for you. Whatever happens, honey, you have to believe that you've made his life better." She watched him, Blair's eyes were misty and sad but he smiled for her. 

"No more so than he's made mine." Blair laid his head back down and as Naomi hummed a quiet tune she'd learned from a Bedouin woman, he drifted off to sleep. Naomi held her son and thought about how strange the journey of life was. Her son, the soul she had brought into this world and taught to be free, had given up his freedom for love. She smiled and swallowed the tears welling inside. Life was a journey and love the end of the road. How wonderful it was for Blair to have achieved his goal so early in life. She had walked the path all her life and never been fortunate enough to find what she sought. She stroked his hair and felt his warm breath on her skin, she knew his road would be bumpy, Jim Ellison would be a challenge, but she'd raised a fighter. Blair would protect what he loved and knowing Jim, he'd be right beside his partner. Somehow Naomi knew that was the way it had always been meant to be. 

***** 

End 


End file.
